This is something that has been on my mind a little bit lately. I think it’s an important human tendency that is often misused and and at the same time underused in the right areas. Getting payback on someone that has wronged you or even that you have perceived has wronged you can be quite cathartic. Whether it is an ex who broke your heart, former business partners who used you and stole from you, or that boss that constantly holds his position over your head with the threat of firing you, wanting to even the scorecards is a very common human condition. And I would argue a very necessary one.
I’m not advocating getting revenge physically or doing something petty but I’m also not advocating beating yourself up too bad if you do do something that may possibly be frowned upon by society (just don’t hurt anyone or do anything illegal). Really, I would argue that giving back a little of what has been given to you is actually necessary for the long term health of your psyche. I want you to really think about that because I know there are things done to me in my younger days that still affect me. Especially now that we have Facebook and we can look upon our perpetrators anytime we want. Heck, the internet gods might even be throwing their continued charmed lives in your face every time you log on. Hard to get them out of your mind when they keep popping up in your friends photos.
Now I want to share a personal story with you. Years ago I was victimized by a group of guys in my school. It started in the sixth grade and these guys beat me up on an almost weekly basis until tenth grade. Well that might be exaggerating a bit but it did happen more often throughout those years then I would like to remember. The problem was not only was I getting beat up and picked on, but the ring leader was my cousin. Our families weren’t really close but still, we are related by blood (pun intended). Unfortunately this little son of a bitch was also very popular and he knew how to get people to like him and follow him. I was no exception. Sometime in the seventh or eighth grade he decided he wanted to be friends. Needless to say I jumped at the chance even if it was just an effort to stop getting jumped. Read more